


Getting to know each other

by Squaresas



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squaresas/pseuds/Squaresas
Summary: Chris takes his boss out to forget about work for a bit.





	Getting to know each other

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty old fic by now, initally was meant only for a friend, but seeing how dead this fandom is i thought that it might be a good time to throw something in here. Was written on a fly by a very sleepy me in a couple of hours so if it seems stupid and rushed, it's because it is. Might have some grammar mistakes. Apologies for yet another fluff fanfic. I just really like these two, okay.

The last thing the S.T.A.R.S. employees wanted to see today was an angry Wesker, stomping through the station radiating fury and exasperation. Not that meeting with Irons usually ended on a pleasant note, but now he really managed to piss off the blond. He came striding into the office, slamming the door behind him and scaring everyone in the process.

 

A distant voice inside of Chris’ head was screaming that it might be a bad idea to go in now, and that it may end just like his speeches during his stay in the air force, but his legs were already strolling to the door. After a bit of hesitating, he opened it.

 

\- WHAT?

 

First instinct Chris had was to close this door and run away, he never seen him so angry. That's an image he won't be forgetting anytime soon. 

 

\- REDFIELD NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO STARE AT ME

 

Quickly closing the goddamn door behind him and hoping his colleagues wouldn’t get the wrong idea after hearing this phrase, Chris coughed and spoke up;

 

\- I’m sorry for being so nosy, but I thought you might need some kind of support…

 

\- What kind of fucking support? 

 

\- Irons angered you.  Again.

 

\- That’s something you should’ve gotten used to, Redfield. He’s an insufferable man, and unfortunately I need to deal with him.

 

Well, at least he got distracted and calmed down a bit. Unwittingly Chris sneaked a peek at loose strands in his captain's usually arranged blond hair. Still nervious and disheveled, he looked more human than in his usual stoic and perfect appearance.

 

-Doesn’t mean that you need to stay here without any rest. Maybe you need to take a break, at least for an hour? Do you even know how to relax sometimes?

 

Judging by blond’s startled look, he didn’t knew.

 

\- Redfield, why am I supposed to slack off just because I got screamed on by some imbecil?

 

\- Best to take a breather and discard your negative feelings rather than spend the whole day bottling it inside. We can go to a bar right now and get you back into shape at least a little bit.

 

The blond narrowed his eyes.

 

\- You’re calling your captain in bar. In the middle of a workday.

 

\- Hey, I've spent these past nights finishing several reports with you, how can you deny me after that kind of devotion? – he jokingly answered. 

 

Glancing over at the never ending pile of papers on his desk Wesker grimaced.

 

\-          To hell with this, it’s not like I will lose anything in one hour. Let’s go. I’ll drive.

 

Taken aback by the fact that the blond actually agreed to his idea, Chris lingered in his office, coming to his senses moment later and running to catch up with Wesker. Jill caught sight of both men and leaned off her table, questioningly pointing at the captain. Chris smiled and showed her a thumbs up, getting an approving nod in return.

 

Approaching the older man's car, he hesitantly stopped. Wesker had never actually given him a ride home, even after (staying after hours) all those all-nighters, after which the captain used to offer him a ride. Chris would always politely refused him, preferring to  either use his own car or walk back home if he had the energy to spare. The matte black, dim car scared him for some reason, but also attracted him with its mysterious appearance and aura.

 

Just like its owner.

 

 

\-          Redfield?

 

Startled, Chris quickly eached the car and jumped in, and immediately he was almost fainting at the smell of the man that clinged to the interior. Get a grip, Chris, it’s not the time to think how perfectly your captain smells.

 

\-          We should go to…

 

\-          I’ll pick the place.

 

\-          …oh. Okay.

 

The ride was a short one, the blond stopped the car in front of some obscure place, which was known for serving good booze and the high prices that accompanied said spirits, which was enough to make Chris nervious. But then again, Wesker will be probably the one drinking, he just came for the ride and to relax.

 

Walking into the establishment, the blond immediately headed for the counter.

 

\- I’ll have the usual. But the whole bottle this time. Redfield?

 

\-          “The usual”?

 

\-          I’ve picked this place for a reason. What will you be drinking?

 

\-          Well, I’ll just have a beer…

 

\-          Give me the best one, - said the blond to the attending bartender

 

\-          Whoa, wait! That’s worth my month’s salary!

 

\-          I’m paying, don’t worry. Seems like we both need some rest.

 

Don’t feel guilty, Chris, he’s the one who picked the place and made an order.

 

Still struggling with his inner thoughts, he walked with the blond to the farthest table, away from other customers. Well, of course he would pick this one.

 

Taking a sip from their bottles, two men stared at each other.

 

\-          So, how am I supposed to… relax? – the blond asked unsurely, taking his glasses off and folding them in his breast pocket.

 

\-          Aren’t we doing this already? – Chris shrugged.

 

\-          No, Redfield, we’re drinking in a bar. That’s really not stopping me from contemplating I’m going to kill everyone, starting with Irons, - his voice sounding irritated.  (wouldn’t his voice go lowers, and dangerous?).

 

\-          Well, how about good old small talk? Maybe you can tell me something about yourself? I mean, I have no idea who you are to be honest.

 

Wesker smirked darkly and narrowed his eyes.

 

\-          I can’t tell you that much, Redfield.

 

That was weird.

 

\-          You can’t or you don’t want to?

 

Wesker seemed to be lost in thoughts for a moment.

 

\-          A little bit of both.

 

Gulping half of his drink, he (cocked his head to the side, his eyes assessing the man in front of him) leaned his head on his shoulder and musingly looked at Chris.

 

\-          Come to think of it, I don’t know anything about you either, expect from information acquired from your work files. Maybe you can share something with me?

 

Chris smirked.

 

\-          Yeah, real smooth, I almost didn’t notice your attempt to avoid answering.  Since it came to this, we can share facts about each other. First a bit of my life, then a bit of yours. Deal?

 

Wesker lazily waved his hand and took a drink.

 

\-          Surprise me.

 

\-          Great. Let’s start with the basics, my childhood. My parents died in a car crash when I was still a teenager, and I had to raise a little sister alone and get through this unfortunate life together with her. I may have not been the perfect brother, but she’s a fine independent woman now and I’m proud of it.

 

The blond finished his drink, getting a troubled look from Chris. He quickly snatched a new glass from one of the passing waitress and curtly thanked her. Grasping it, he slowly started speaking;

 

\-          I never knew my parents. Maybe they’re already dead, maybe not. People who raised me haven’t told me who they were, but I don’t really care either way . Even if they left me, I don’t think they regret it and would want to see me. My… foster father raised me as a good member of society, I think you can see that for yourself. I have a sister too, though we’re not related by blood, she just happened to be with me… in our family.

 

Falling silent, he opened the bottle (he took a sip from his drink?). Chris was too dumfounded, trying to process everything that was suddenly dropped on him. In just a moments notice Wesker had told him probably the most amount of personal information than anyone in S.T.A.R.S. knew about their mysterious captain. And it was pretty tragic too. Is this why he always keeps to himself?

 

\-          It’s your turn, Chris.

 

He jumped, still too wrapped up in thoughts

 

\-          Oh, sure, uh…

 

\-          Tell me about you private life.

 

Chris stared at him in shock. A sly smile playing on the blond’s angular face, the drink in his hand almost empty. Is he drunk? This “relaxing” thing might’ve gone too far.

 

\-          W-what do you mean? Isn’t the whole point of a private life based on the idea that other people are not supposed to know about it?  

 

Wesker smirked.

 

\-          Chris, do you have something to hide? No offense, but judging from the fact that you’re always willing to spend nights in my office filling in reports, and spending your weekends either home alone or with your sister…

 

Chris sighed.

 

\-          Are you making fun of me? I’m still gonna be mad at you even if it’s your drunk mind speaking.

 

\-          Drunk? Oh right, that reminds me.

 

Wesker beckoned a waitress.

 

\-          You sure about that? – asked Chris worriedly, eyeing the freshly poured drink.

 

\-          I need more than that to get drunk, Chris, don’t worry.

 

So he legitimately wonders about his personal life while being in a sober condition? What’s that supposed to mean?

 

\-          Chris, I can almost hear your thoughts, so here’s something to make it fast – we’re exchanging facts about ourselves, right?

 

\-          Right, but… oh.

 

Wesker nodded. It only made things more confusing for Chris.

 

\-          But what’s the point? You already know that I’m single.

 

The Blond froze for a second, but quickly regained his composture.

 

\-          I just guessed. Who knows, maybe you’re hiding a gem from people’s eyes.

 

Chris smiled sadly.

 

\-          No, you guessed right. I can’t get along with women. I mean, I can, as a friend. But whenever they suggest something more… intimate, I feel weird about it, like…

 

\-          So you’re into men?

 

Chris choked on his beer. Wesker patiently waited until the brunet coughed up and angrily looked at him.

 

\-          Where did you get that idea?! Just because I don’t like women doesn’t mean it’s…

 

\-          Oh, but it does. And I had an idea about it before, you just confirmed my suspicions.

 

The brunet froze. Well, this is it. First his superiors in the air force and their accusing glances, and now this. And he had just gotten used to this town and his colleagues. Should’ve expect that someone as perceptive as his captain would see through him. And he asked him out to a bar, what an idiot, digging hid own grave like that!

 

Wesker nonchalantly finished his drink and folded hands.

 

\-          And it’s my turn now.

 

Chris woke up from his chaotic reflections and stared at the blond. He already forgot about their deal. What was he thinking? It’s easy to guess that Wesker probably has a lot of women for every day. Well, expect for days when they’re filling documents all night. This new detail about his captains personal life wasn’t worth his job and the life he was trying to build in this city.

 

\-          I’m single as well. Don’t really have a lot of time for relationships, my work takes too much of my life and time to even… take breaks, like this one. I’ll have to spend an extra hour at the station because of you, you know.

 

Chris gulped.

 

\-          But I’m grateful for this. Nobody ever made me a suggestion to stop running around and calm down. I just... haven’t thought about it. I always have the energy for work, so why stop?

 

The waitress interrupted the blond and brought him a refill, glancing worryingly at a pale Chris, but quickly left seeing Wesker’s piercing stare at her. The older man offered the freshly poured drink to Chris, which he hesistantly accepted.

 

\-          I think I got sidetracked. Even though I’m single, I sometimes find myself partners for one night. It’s best not to get attached. I learned it the hard way.

 

He frowned for a second, then looked up at Chris.

 

\-          What would you do if you were forced to leave someone you love?

 

Chris struggled with his voice for a moment before he spoke:

 

\-          I wouldn’t leave this person.

 

Wesker raised an eyebrow.

 

\-          That’s not an answer. What if your life depended on it?

 

\-          I still wouldn’t leave. If my sister ended up mixed up in some kind of trouble, I wouldn’t leave her even under gunpoint, she’s too important for me. I can sacrifice myself for her sake. Same with someone I love, I guess. Is this what happened to you?

 

The Blond winced and looked away.

 

\-          None of your business, Redfield.

 

\-          You’re the one who asked.

 

Chris sighed and looked at his expensive drink. How much have they drank, anyway? At least he got a chance to have some good booze before his inevitable unemployment.

 

\-          You look awfully moody, Chris.

 

\-          Aren’t you gonna kick me out of S.T.A.R.S.?

 

There was a pregnant pause. Suspecting that he had said something wrong, Chris returned his glance up to Wesker, who appeared quite puzzled.

 

\-          Why would I do that?

 

\-          Because I’m gay, goddamnit, this is why you started this whole “private life” thing, right? To find out what I’m hiding?

 

\-          That’s quite an assumption, coming from the guy who invited me here and started asking about my life. And it would be hypocrisy to fire you for something I’m guilty of as well, don’t you think?

 

Chris knew how stupid he must’ve appeared. He also knew that Wesker obviously had fun with this situation, judging by his playful look.

 

Well, yes, sometimes he noticed, or thought he noticed, how his captain looked at him. Hell, even Jill used to joke about the chemistry between them but dropped it after Chris pleaded her to stop before Wesker heard her. He already had enough problems trying to hide his feelings, not that it helped him in the end.

 

\-          So, where are you going with this? Or you just having a laugh?

 

\-          I’m… reconsidering my principles.

 

\-          About attachment to people?

 

\-          Yes… though it would be a shame to bring misery to someone so naïve and pure as you. What do you think about it, Chris? 

 

The brunet felt his face growing extremely hot. They where seated in a dark corner of the bar, but seeing the conspiratorial smile playing on the blonds face it was obvious he noticed the blush forming on Chris’ face.

 

\-          You sure you’re not drunk, sir?

 

The last thing Chris expected was to see, and hear, Wesker’s honest laugh. For a brief moment he lost his usual stoic composure and covered his face with a hand. The Brunet couldn’t help it and ended up chuckling with his captain. Guess he is then. It might be a problem to bring back a tipsy captain, but it was worth seeing the blond happy and loose for once.

 

Wesker coughed and put his glasses back on.

 

\-          Well, you can always answer later, when I’m more sober. Not that it would change the way I feel about you. Our hour is up, by the way.

 

Still blushing, Chris sheepishly walked out with him.

 

The ride back was a quiet one. Both men were deep in thought, sometimes sneaking glances at each other.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris took a drink and grimaced. Edonia had a lot of things to be proud of, but not the beer. He’d never ordered anything here, if not for this case. He needed a drink.

 

A black figure silently sat beside him in the booth, taking for himself a bottle of booze. After a moment Chris heard a sound of disgust and smirked.

 

\-          Not what you’re used to, I imagine.

 

\-          It’s sad if you got used to this excuse of a drink. Maybe I should take you somewhere nice.

 

\-          If you can find something nice in this dump, sure.

 

The man in the expensive black coat cocked his head to look at Chris who tried to look anywhere but his direction. It’s hard not to notice his bright red eyes boring holes into him, so he finally turned his eyes at his direction.

 

\-          When will you leave me alone, Albert?

 

The blond smirked. Chris could’ve sworn those eyes always shone brighter when they looked at him.

 

\-          I could ask you the same.

 

\-          Well, I thought you got the hint back in that volcano.

 

\-          And here I thought you got a hint when I came back.

 

Chris smiled and allowed himself to be embraced, glad that the farthest tables are always the darkest ones.


End file.
